When Curtains Rise To Fall Poem by eve Taylor

She remembers other days,
day's of little cherry cigarello's,
combined with smoky night's,
of cyanide and sweet cherry wine,
so fine along a tiny line,
one's of year's ago,
from a timely time,
upon a breath deeply,
while closing her tired eyes,
memories slowly,
yet sweetly unwind,
in a theater so odd,
it's uniquely obscure,
when curtains rise to fall,
she recalls it fondly all,
as wide eyed and pale,
as a china porcelain doll.